And, If I Were So Low That

The Malcontent Is Neither Well, Full Nor Fasting; And Though He Abounds With Complaints, Yet Nothing Dislikes Him But The Present; For What He Condemns While It Was, Once Passed, He Magnifies And Strives To Recall It Out Of The Jaw Of Time. What He Hath He Seeth Not, His Eyes Are So Taken Up With What He Wants; And What He Sees He Careth Not For, Because Be Cares So Much For That Which Is Not.

Our Body Is A Well-set Clock, Which Keeps Good Time, But If It Be Too Much Or Indiscreetly Tampered With, The Alarm Runs Out Before The Hour.

There Is No Word Or Action But May Be Taken With Two Hands,--either With The Right Hand Of Charitable Construction, Or The Sinister Interpretation Of Malice And Suspicion; And All Things Do Succeed As They Are Taken. To Construe An Evil, Action Well Is But A Pleasing And Profitable Deceit To Myself; But To Misconstrue A Good Thing Is A Treble Wrong,--to Myself, The Action, And The Author.

Those That Dare Lose A Day, Ate Dangerously Prodigal; Those That Dare Misspend It, Are Desperate.

Now You Say, Alas! Christianity Is Hard; I Grant It; But Gainful And Happy. I Contemn The Difficulty When I Respect The Advantage. The Greatest Labors That Have Answerable Requitals Are Less Than The Least That Have No Regard. Believe Me, When I Look To The Reward, I Would Not Have The Work Easier. It Is A Good Master Whom We Serve, Who Not Only Pays, But Gives; Not After The Proportion Of Our Earnings, But Of His Own Mercy.